


Death Can Be Good and Bad

by calamityrose



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamityrose/pseuds/calamityrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel and Connor are both killed in the same battle. Miles won't talk to anyone. Bass and Charlie cope and grieve together.<br/>Updates (1/21/18)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is based on an idea I got from www.thegoodshipcharloe.com
> 
> Check this website out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this written way back in 2014 but I decided to revisit it thanks to advice from a comment. So I did just that and rewrote it, making it more of a 2 chapter piece. Enjoy!
> 
> Updated 1/21/18

     The war was awful. The number of bodies dropped was too high to count and within that number, Rachel and Connor were apart of it. With Rachel's death, it seemed as if he couldn't bare it. Miles tortured the woman and tore her to pieces when he was apart of the Militia which had been non-existent for quite some time. Though, with her death, he shut down. He hid himself in his tent and drank the day away. Charlie tried her hardest to talk with him since she needed it just as much as he did. But he wasn't there. She begged him to listen to her, to look at her, but to no avail. 

     Then there was Bass Monroe. He lost his son who he had only known for awhile. The way he died was a way Monroe will never forgive himself for. Connor was usually a rather self-indulgent guy except he sacrificed himself for his father. Monroe had been battling an opponent when someone he had thought he butchered stood back up. Before he realized it, Connor stood up and put himself between the blade and his father. Monroe turned just in time to see the light leave his sons eyes.

     Through Monroe and Charlie's time of grievance, she wasn't sure where he went. Did he leave the city? Was he drinking his life away like Miles was? She had never bothered to check in on him. Stupid. During the time, Charlie kept to herself, helping any wounded soldiers or even leading. With Miles and Monroe out, someone else had to step in. Her pro-activeness was mainly for a distraction. A distraction from the horrible world that they were apart of.

     A day came where there was nothing for her to do. She had done it all. So she decided to go out on a little adventure like she did in their small village with her father and Danny. Before leaving, she checked on her uncle to make sure he was still alive and not passed out. Once that she made sure, she grabbed her bow and a sword and set on her way into the woods.

     Most of the woods around their settlement was filled with soldiers. Soldiers making sure everything was safe and in order. Except, Charlie knew a place that was not surrounded by guards. 

     Charlie knew how to track people which also made it easy for her to cover her own tracks. She knew what other trackers were looking for and what to do to deceive. Charlie was not someone anybody wanted to get entangled with, especially if her uncle was with her. The two were practically unstoppable. As she walked through the woods, her feet hardly made a sound.

        Though there was someone following her, and she knew it, they were being too loud. She could see the spot that she wanted to get to. In one swift motion, she stepped behind a tree and pulled her sword out from its sheath. Trying to even her short breaths, she gripped the swords handle till her knuckles turned white.

     Once a branch of a tree cracked behind her, she made her move and swung the sword to have it only collide with the thin air. 

     "Charlie! Charlie, it's me!" Bass yelled at her, throwing his hands in the air.

     Charlie backed down but did not put her sword away. Bass was the last person she wanted to see. She would rather see a soldier telling her to go back to camp than Monroe. Yes, she had helped him in the past with getting him to her uncle and mother in the beginning of the patriots arrival. But they were no more than enemies with a common enemy. 

     "Go home, Monroe. I don't want you here."

     "No way, this area isn't surveyed. Anyone could be out here," Monroe told her, walking closer to her.

     "Yeah, anyone like you. Get out of here."

     "Nah, I think I'll follow you."

     Charlie continued walking her directed path with Monroe on her tail, trying her best to ignore him. Just his presence bothered her. There was nothing about him that she liked or could even stand. Everything about him made her want to kill him even more. 

     The small little shack came into view and Charlie grinned. This place for her was much like the ferris wheel back in her old village. The pair got to the shack and peeked the door open, making sure nobody was inside. During this process, Monroe observed Charlie, trying to put together why she was here. He didn't have to do it for very long since she pulled out an old lunchbox from under the bed. It was metal and read StarWars across the top. Monroe chuckled to himself.

     "Before your time there, Charlie," he told her with a smile, forgetting for a moment that his son wasn't there to tell him he was an idiot.

     Charlie ignored him as she pulled out the postcards she had started collecting again once she arrived back in Willoughby. Most of them were from southern cities like Houston and Austin, though there was one from Las Vegas. Along with the postcards, there was a pair of headphones, a medal that read  _1st Place: Figure Skating US Championships (_ Charlie didn't know much of the sport other than people performed spins and jumps with knives attached to shoes), and a small necklace with a rose bud on it. She never really knew why she kept all these useless things. Maybe they reminded her of what life used to be like though she never experienced enough of it to remember it. 

     "Are we done here?" Monroe asked her, wanting to leave but not wanting to leave her all alone out here.

     She rolled her eyes at him, "You might be but I'm not. Nobody's making you stay."

     "Too many people have died, Charlotte, if you don't come back, Miles wouldn't be able to handle it," he told her.

     Charlie stared at the items lying inside the lunchbox. Her eyes filled with tears as her mind went over what had happened to them the past few days. She watched her mother fall to her knees with a sword leaving her body, her fear showing in her mothers eyes. Charlie watched onwards as her mom fell down in a lifeless clump, so focused she didn't see the man to her right swing a sword down over her own head. But just in time, Monroe came in, shielding her from the opponent. 

     Tears fell from her eyes as her fingers squeezed the faded postcards. Now, all Charlie had was Miles and her grandpa. But did she truly have Miles? Who knew how long it would be until he was willing to talk to Charlie again? Obviously it was different than when Nora died. Miles got over her quick, or really just pushed all the thoughts about her away until it wasn't a problem anymore. Charlie needed Miles now.

     "Hey, you're a real ass sometimes but do you think you could knock some sense into Miles for me?" Charlie asked, looking upwards at the man while wiping a tear from her eye.

     Monroe heard her request but he wasn't sure of how to respond. He tried talking to Miles before.

      _"Miles," Bass started, "Miles, Charlie needs you right now."_

_Miles stared down at table, empty glass in his hand an empty bottle of bourbon in front of him. His other hand was pushed against his forehead, holding it upwards. He didn't respond to what Bass was saying._

_"Goddamnit-Miles!" Bass struck the back of hand to Miles' cheek, trying to get any type of reaction out of him. None was given. Bass couldn't save his son no longer, he was gone. Never to be remembered by anyone except Monroe and possibly Charlie. So if he couldn't help his child, he would help someone else's._

"Charlotte," he hushed towards her, "I've tried. When Connor and your mother were killed, I tried. He wouldn't snap out of it," Monroe told her. His heart ached for the girl who just needed someone in her life.

     "You don't seem that shaken up from Connor's death."

     "I know. I didn't know him as well as I should've. All we ever did was fight or bicker at one another. Don't get me wrong here, I miss him but I never really got to know him."

     "You really are psychotic bastard. You don't even miss your own son," Charlie glared at the man. 

     "Think what you want, Charlotte. I loved my son and hell, I'd die for him but that's the truth. I just regret not getting to know who he really was other than some ass who lets his own father get whipped," Monroe hissed at her with a little bit of anger and a little bit of sorrow. It was an even mix.

     "I always gave my mother a hard time, ya know? I always ignored her. I always looked away from her. I never showed her how much I loved her," Charlie choked out, "You never know what you have until you lose it, huh?"

     Monroe chuckled to himself, "Yeah, I'll drink to that," he said as he a took a sip of whiskey from his flask.

     Charlie watched him take a drink. Why was she even talking to him? He killed her brother. He killed her father. He took away half of her family, yet, she still needed someone to talk to and it was him.

     "What a wonderful world we-" Charlie started in.

     But then a bullet pierced through her shoulder. She grunted and fell to the floor, holding her shoulder.

     Monroe got low to the ground and to the window in order to see who was shooting at them. He looked over to Charlie who's shoulder was losing blood abnormally quick. He crawled over to her and pressed on the wound and looked for an exit wound. There wasn't one. 

     "Are there any firearms in here?" Monroe yelled to her over the guns firing from outside. Charlie shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea if there was. The only times she ever came to this little shack were to look at her findings and honestly, cry. Monroe swore under his breath before peering over the window ledge again.

Four men.

     "Charlotte, I gotta have your bow. You can't shoot, the bullet probably broke in pieces," he hissed at her, pulling the bow off her back and she didn't refuse.

     "Stay here. If anyone comes in here, pretend you're dead. They'll believe it."  _Hopefully,_ he thought to himself.

     Charlie nodded and he took it as his cue to leave. He took the crossbow and walked out the door, crawling to a nearby car as cover. Four guys wasn't that many and they were seriously foolish if they thought they could walk through safe claimed territory and come out unscathed. Monroe peered over the back of the car and let an arrow soar into the throat of a man farthest away from Charlie and him.

     Her mind wasn't the clearest it should be. Her world was kind of shaky and the pain in her shoulder was immobilizing any movement she had left in her body. Would it be so bad if she died? If she died from the blood loss of this foolish gunshot? Out of all the battles and all the times she was seconds from death, this itty bitty gunshot she got while talking with Monroe would do her in? Dumb. Stupid. Foolish. Her vision began to fade even more, blackening around the edges. Whatever was happening to her looked the same way it did when those guys drugged her drink a few months back. Yeah, the one where Monroe had to save her. Funny.

     Charlie heard the door creak open and cracked a smile a bit, happy to see Bass standing there to help her and bring her home to Miles and get this bastard of a bullet out of her shoulder.

     But it wasn't Monroe.

     Whoever it was wrapped their fingers around her neck and squeezed tight. Too tight. The black edges started to consume every part of her vision. She couldn't see. Soon enough, she couldn't feel. Good. No more pain from that bullet.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nah, ya'll can read it. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this short lil fic. I talk more about this in the end notes.

     Miles loved Rachel. Nora knew it. Why didn't he? No. That wasn't it. He knew he loved Rachel. He just was never able to admit it to her or to anyone. The only person he loved more than her was Charlie and look at what he was doing to her? He was shutting her out and pushing her away but he couldn't bring himself to talk to her. All he had to do was talk to her but he couldn't do it.

     "Miles!" Monroe screamed from outside of the tent. The scream sounded in distress or in worry, Miles wasn't sure. The sound of Monroe's voice and the tone of it  _almost_ snapped him out of his trance.

     Monroe carried Charlie on his shoulder, who he wasn't even sure if she was still alive. He walked in on the soldier on top of and suffocating her and on top of the gunshot, he had no way of knowing. He walked as quickly as he could to the medic tent and lied her on an old cot that had been empty for sometime, thanks to her. Once he knew she was settled and the medics were helping her, he ran for Miles.

     "Miles, Miles, you gotta snap out of it! This is not the time for you to play your games," he screamed, slapping his friend in the face. "If you do not snap out of this, your niece is going to die. She needs blood now, Miles."

     Miles looked up at his friend.  _Charlie was going to die?_ _How? What happened? Where had he been?_

     "You're the only one I know that can do the blood transfusion," Monroe told him, helping Miles to his feet.

      _Blood transfusion? Why in the hell did Charlie need a transfusion? What the hell had he been doing this entire time?_

The doctor was already huddled over Charlie's shoulder, trying to look at how bad the gunshot wound was. His face made it look like it wasn't good. Gene, the best doctor they had in town, was nowhere to be seen due to his daughter's death and it was horrible timing.

     "The bullet broke into four different pieces. Now, I can get them out but she's lost a lot of blood and she'll need more. I don't have any don-"

     "I'm O negative," Miles piped in, running to Charlie's side. He picked up her hand and held it, praying to God that she wouldn't leave him too.

     "You understand that she very possibly might not even pull through due to all the blood loss, correct?"

     "You can drain every ounce of my blood from me. Do not let her die," Miles hissed at the doctor, emphasizing the 'not'.

     The doctor nodded at Miles and started his work, cutting into to Charlie's flesh to dig out the bullet fragments.

     "Bass, what's happened?" Miles asked, looking up but grimacing as the blood started to pump from the needle into Charlie's arm.

     "I followed her to this little shack. I didn't want her on her own, especially at a time like now because something like this," he used his hand to indicate what was occurring, "could happen. This shack wasn't in territory that the soldiers were roaming on so we were easy targets. Four guys attacked us out of nowhere, shooting her from behind. Once I got them all down, I walked back into the shack and a soldier was on top of her, trying to suffocate her," Bass explained.

     "How could I let this happen?" Miles asked to himself yet, out loud. He was supposed to be protecting her and he failed. He had failed his job that Rachel gave him from the get-go and now he might lose everyone. He stared down at his niece and thought back to their times together. He couldn't remember more than one time where he just sat down and talked to her. They never got a break from the fighting so that they could talk. What was their relationship built on? Being family?

     Bass watched his friend feel guilty over the girl, ignoring his own pain about his own deceased son. He told the Charlie the truth about him. That he didn't know Connor that well and regretted not knowing. He could grieve forever about his son but eventually he needed to get over it. That's what war was and Miles even knew it. He just needed a wake-up call.

\------------------

     Charlie woke up several hours later with the wound aching but followed a tube that was in her arm to Miles. She was surprised to see him out of his tent and with no alcohol around him. (Was it even safe to take blood from someone who was drinking not moment before?). He wasn't awake, head resting on her cot right next to her leg. She looked to the other side of the room and saw Monroe.

     "Uh, what happened?" Charlie asked him in a daze. 

     "Just some stray patriots shot you. You needed a blood transfusion."

     "And Miles woke up for it?" Charlie asked in disbelief.

     Monroe smiled at her and nodded, showing the disbelief even he had. He told her that the doctor thought that she might not even pull through, except she did. She was not the person to go down that easy. 

     "Thanks," Charlie mumbled, "thanks for getting my uncle back."

     "Uh huh. And Charlotte," Monroe struggled for his words. "Know that what we talked about in that little shack of yours did help me. It doesn't make much sense-"

     "You're welcome," Charlie told him before shutting her eyes for a little more sleep. Monroe was happy he got one nice thing out of her. That didn't happen very often after everything he had done to her. He even smiled too.

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a Monroe/Charlie fic and ig it came out to be a little Miles at the end and I'm not happy with it but I'm also not unhappy? it just kind of took its own course at the end of chapter 1 and I let it carry on.   
> Thanks for reading and tune in to some other Revolution fics to come!


End file.
